


At the Mouth of the River

by HigherMagic



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone, Alpha Daryl Dixon, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Animal Instincts, Biting, Bottom Rick Grimes, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Knotting, M/M, Marking, Minor Violence, Nipple Play, Omega Rick Grimes, Past Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes, Past Relationship(s), Possessive Behavior, Possessive Daryl Dixon, Rickyl Writers' Group, Scent Marking, Scenting, Self-Lubrication, Spencer is an asshole but who's surprised, Top Daryl Dixon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 15:20:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11671770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: The problem with being in charge is that everyone expects him to be strong and put together all the time. Sometimes, though – and this is the problem - Rick wants a fight. His nature demands only the best for a partner, only the strongest and the smartest, that can control him and give him what he needs. He's sure that Daryl can provide that for him.





	At the Mouth of the River

**Author's Note:**

> Omega Rick is more difficult than I thought it would be to write but I felt remiss if I didn't try. This fic has allusions to Shane/Rick and Carl/Rick but it's strictly platonic within the context of play-fighting between Alphas and Omegas, which is a natural part of the social order in this fic. No incest, no other relationships aside from Daryl/Rick and past Lori/Rick.

The problem with being in charge is that everyone expects him to be strong and put together, all the time. Rick had fought for his place as leader of his pack hard, with fangs and claws, and dragged together their unlikely troupe from the mud and the dust. They're strong now, iron- and fire-forged, and he's fought for it and the fight was long and hard but it's finally won. When newcomers join their group they have to understand that he _is_ in charge, even when they'd naturally deferred to Shane or Daryl or another Alpha before him.

Daryl is the only person he's never had a problem with, in that regard. Daryl doesn't push him, doesn't fight with him, doesn't challenge his authority or question his decisions except at times when Rick absolutely needs him to. He's a good man like that, a good Alpha.

Sometimes, though – and this is the problem - Rick wants a fight. He's programmed, by nature or evolution of whatever you want to call it, to seek and crave someone to dominate him. His nature demands only the best for a partner, only the strongest and the smartest can control him and give him what he needs.

He's sure that Daryl can provide that for him. Daryl might be the only one left alive who can, who Rick doesn't hesitate to defer to when the time and situation calls for it, who he trusts to have his back.

Rick is an Omega. Everyone in his pack knows it although he does try to find scent-blocking shampoo and deodorants when he can. He's not ashamed of his biology but it helps in the world when his sweet scent is deadened and he can more easily negotiate with foreign Alphas and women. Alphas are more likely to accept his control when they can't smell him properly.

Daryl had known from the start. Rick didn't try to hide it, but he knew Daryl knew. Whether he had been told or whether his sense of smell was that good or whether Rick had done something to make it obvious, he couldn't say. But he'd never gotten trouble from the Alpha so he had always figured it hadn't meant much to Daryl, to follow an Omega's lead.

He doesn't fight Rick. He's never tried to use his Alpha Voice on Rick, or placate him by touching his neck, or mount him like Shane used to do whenever Rick became the wrong kind of restless. It was common enough practice – Rick had seen more than one skirmish in Alexandria result in a play-fight that ended with the Omega or the smaller Alpha on his hands and knees, covered and dry-mounted into submission.

Some part of him hated how much he wanted it, but it was a natural thing. But no one would do it to him – no one dared.

Without Shane or Lori around, no one was there to know what Rick needed. He'd sometimes catch Aaron and Eric watching him with a sympathetic eye, but it would be inappropriate to ask a mated pair to let him into their pairing for his own selfish needs.

And it can't be public, or the control that Rick had fought so long and hard for would crumble under his hands.

His fingers shake when he lowers his gun, his breathing unsteady. What was meant to be a simple run had turned into fresh Hell when Spencer went off on his own, ignoring Rick's command to come back, and ended up almost getting them all killed when a group of walkers had trapped them in the convenience store. Glenn is injured, his arm badly bruised where he'd been thrown against a shelf and almost bitten before Daryl had leapt in and knifed the thing in the head.

He whirls on Spencer, teeth bared. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're playin' at?" he demands. "You almost got us all killed!"

Spencer glares at him. Blood drips from the corner of his temple, his eyes flicker red and Rick feels his hands tremble again. He holsters his gun to hide it. "I saw a chance, I took it," he replies harshly, his breathing just as heavy. He's blustering and puffing himself up and Rick wants to lunge for him, wrestle him to the ground, rip his fucking throat out and see if the Alpha is as big and bad when his blood is in Rick's mouth.

Rick growls and takes a step forward and Spencer straightens up and Rick thinks _yes, this is it_. He'll finally get a Goddamn fight. But then Daryl's voice cuts through and he looks away.

"There're more walkers comin'," Daryl says, his eyes wide. "We should move."

Rick growls lowly again, tempting to just rush the walkers and see what kind of fight he gets from them, but he has to stay calm and in control. Always in fucking control. "Fine," he grits out, rubbing his hands over his face. Daryl eyes him for a moment, his eyes the same calm blue they always are. Rick has never seen him go red. "Let's go. Glenn, you good?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Glenn says, testing the movement of his arm with a weak hiss, and then tightens his hand on his knife. "Let's get the fuck outta here."

 

 

 

The drive back is tense, as they all pile into the car with their haul and head back to the Alexandria Safe Zone. Glenn is with him in his car, Daryl and Spencer in the other. Rick doesn't like that – he doesn't like when he can't see Daryl, but Daryl can take care of himself. And, more importantly, he can handle Spencer.

They get back inside and Michonne, Carol and Aaron come forward to help with the haul. Rick can't stick around – he's on edge, tense as the bowstring on Daryl's crossbow, and he's itching for a fight. He knows one word from Spencer and he'll go for his throat, bloodline to Deanna be damned.

He stalks away, growling to himself under his breath. Without a fight the next best thing would be a good fuck, but he can't get that here either. He can't entertain the thought of taking a mate right now, even if there was someone to spark his interest.

Of course, there _is_ someone…but he's as unreachable as the sun.

So he seeks out his daughter. The presence of a newborn is the next best thing to soothe an Omega in distress and so Rick searches for Carl and Judith, finds them sitting on the porch in front of Rick's house. Carl smiles at him and offers Judith up and Rick takes her in his arms, pressing his nose to the wispy blonde hair on the top of her head and taking a deep breath. Carl, of course, knows what his father is and what he might need. Omega education had come leaps and bounds forward by the time Carl was in school, way more than they had been in Rick's time.

He sits down next to his son, breathing in Judith's baby powder and milk scent as deeply as he can until he doesn't feel like he'll go crazy anymore. Judith burbles happily, looking up at Rick with her big, dark eyes – the same color as Lori's. He smiles down at her and laughs when she tugs in an uncoordinated motion at his hair.

"How was the run?" Carl asks after a moment.

Rick shakes his head, closing his eyes, and rests his forehead against Judith's, taking in another deep inhale. "I don't want to talk about it, if that's alright," he says.

Carl nods, lips pressed together. "I wish I was bigger," he says, and Rick looks up. Carl's eye flashes to him, briefly, before he looks away. "I could give you what you need."

It's a sweet sentiment, and Rick smiles, knowing that Carl only means in terms of fighting and touch placation. "Maybe one day," he says, somewhat wistfully. At least with Carl it would be less of a _thing_ , just an Alpha son taking care of his father. "But that won't be for a while."

"I know," Carl says with a huff and a roll of his eye. "If ever."

"I think you got my height, at least," Rick replies, grinning. Carl smirks back at him.

They fall back into companionable silence, only Judith's small noises breaking it as the bustle of Alexandria drones on around them. Rick's eyes watch those who pass by – some of them nod and smile at them, some of them are engrossed enough in their own conversations that they pay Rick, Carl and Judith no mind.

Then, Spencer approaches the house, and Rick's good mood vanishes.

He stands and hands Judith to Carl, and Carl takes her away from the house and down the street towards Michonne's place. Rick lifts his chin, eyes narrowed, ready for the fight he can feel coming. "Can I help you?" he asks, trying and failing to keep his voice neutral.

Spencer answers him in kind, puffed up again and geared for an attack. "I don't appreciate being calling out like that," he says, and Rick wants to laugh but all that comes out is a rumbling snarl. He steps off of the porch and onto the street so that he and Spencer are level.

"You did a stupid thing," Rick replies. "It deserved to be called out." Spencer rolls his eyes.

"I ain't takin' orders from a fuckin' _Omega_ ," he spits.

Rick's used to this kind of thing. On the force, he had usually played the role of comforter, providing reassurance and a safe scent for the victims of whatever crime or horror he and Shane would undoubtedly address. Omegas made people feel safe and cared for, with their gentle voices and sweet scents. Still, this is Georgia, which had meant Rick had felt the brunt of many a hateful slur or derisive comment thrown his way.

He's used to this kind of thing, but that was before – before all of this, before Rick had had to find the leader in himself and had had to claw and fight his way to the top. Before he'd gone so long without a placating touch or a good fuck and fight that he's ready for one at a moment's notice.

"You'll take orders from me when I'm out there or you'll stay in the walls," Rick growls, baring his teeth. His fingers twitch by his side, and he wants, oh _God_ how he wants Spencer to lunge at him, to make this a real fight. But Spencer is a coward and he's spent too long inside these walls and he's not wild – not like Rick and Carol and Daryl and the rest of his group are.

"My mom -."

"Your _mom_ ," Rick spits, "is dead. And you're more of a bitch than I am if you think my loyalty to her will save your ass."

_Please, I dare you. Fuckin' push me again._

Spencer snarls, his eyes flashing red, and he lunges for Rick. His knuckles connect with Rick's jaw and Rick stumbles to his knees, and spits a wad of bloody saliva onto the ground. He grins, teeth bloodied, and turns to look at Spencer. Spencer hesitates, rubbing his knuckles, and Rick stands again.

"Fuckin' coward," he spits, and Spencer snarls and rushes him again. He tackles Rick and they both go to the ground and Rick snarls in delight, finally, _finally_ a fight – he punches Spencer in the ribs, winding him, but the Alpha growls and Rick sees he's going to try and bite Rick. Stupid move. Just like a pup to do.

He grabs Spencer's hair and kicks him off, sending the Alpha sprawling on his back. Rick scrambles to his feet and kicks him in the side and Spencer howls, curling up on himself. He grabs Rick's leg and pulls him down until they're a chaotic sprawl, clawing at each other frantically. Spencer's claws dig into Rick's back, raking down and Rick howls.

"Rick, _stop_."

Rick freezes, the Alpha Voice sliding up his spine and grabbing the back of his neck like a physical touch. He gasps, his hands shaking where they are, dug into Spencer's arms. The Alpha blinks up at him and scrambles away, bloody on his shoulders and visibly aching in the side as he clutches at it.

A shadow falls across them and Rick looks up to see Daryl. He snarls, knowing his eyes are flashing gold, and Daryl licks his lips and hauls him to his feet. "Alright. Inside. _Now_ ," he commands, voice still thick and Alpha, and then a hand slides across Rick's nape and tightens and Rick goes lax, almost collapsing back to the ground but Daryl is there to hold him up and usher him inside.

"Get the fuck away from here. If I see you antagonizin' him again I'll let him finish the job," Daryl tells Spencer with a growl, and then he shoves Rick through the front door and closes it behind him. Immediately he lets Rick's neck go and Rick lets out a frantic, quiet whimper. "The fuck you think you're doin'?"

Rick licks his lips. His hands are shaking and his head feels like it's full of smoke, still drunk on the feeling of the Alpha Voice filling his head and making him limbs heavy. He falls to his knees and curls up on himself, hands pressed over his mouth to stop the desperate sounds he wants to make. He wants Daryl to touch him again, with an urgency like hunger or thirst.

"…Rick?"

Rick shakes his head, clenching his eyes tightly shut. There's a whine stuck in his chest and he knows he's making a sound like a beaten dog but he can't make himself stop.

Then Daryl is there, kneeling in front of him, and Daryl's hand slides into his hair and Rick's hands fall away. He gasps, moaning audibly like he's in pain, and Daryl's other hand presses against his mouth.

"Shh." The hand on his mouth traces his jaw, down his neck, and Rick automatically bares his throat. The only Alpha he's done this for is Shane, during their play fights, but it feels so right to do it for Daryl now. He's shaking all over, desperate for the heat of the Alpha's touches. "Shh, it's okay. You're alright, Rick, just calm down."

His hands pull away and Rick whines, shaking his head again. Daryl's eyes, when he meets them, are dark with guilt. "I'm sorry," he says, wiping his hands on his vest. "I shouldn't'a Alpha Voice'd ya. Fuckin' shitty thing to do -."

"No, no, I -." Rick's mouth is dry, his blood caking his teeth, it feels like he's choking on it. He _needs_. Daryl has touched him, finally, the warm weight on the nape of his neck had felt so fucking good, he'd forgotten how good it felt to have someone touch him there.

He makes a weak, helpless sound. He wants to reach for Daryl but his hands keep jerking back like he'll burn himself if he touches the Alpha. " _Please_ ," he says, and hopes Daryl knows what he's trying so desperately to say. Daryl has never had trouble reading him before and he _needs_ Daryl to know what he wants now.

Daryl hesitates, licks his lips, and then his hand slowly rises up and Rick collapses against it, running his cheek along Daryl's palm, putting his teeth to Daryl's wrist, and then the Alpha's fingers curl around his nape and Rick shivers, a full-body thing, and rests his forehead against Daryl's chest. He can feel the Alpha's heartbeat, flying.

"… _Oh_ ," Daryl says, heavy with understanding. His fingers wrap around the strands of Rick's hair and his nape and Rick sobs. "Oh God, of course. How long has it been for you?"

Since before Judith. Before Lori. Before Shane. That one night when he'd found them all again and Lori had allowed him into her bed and pet him afterwards until he purred against her neck. It was unheard of for an Omega to make it on their own – most of them had died by now without a pack to protect them. He had been able to smell Shane on Lori that night, and afterwards neither Lori nor Shane would even play-fight with him.

But he shakes his head and, instead of any of that, says; "Too damn long."

Daryl's other hand brushes across his warm cheek, pushing his hair back from his face, and Rick sighs and trembles again. Daryl lets out a sound that's almost hurt. "Did you not trust me?" he asks.

Rick lifts his head, eyes locking with Daryl's. The Alpha's expression is solemn and sad, jaw clenched like he's preparing for bad news. "I didn't know you…" He clears his throat, ducks his eyes. He gasps and his eyelids flutter when Daryl squeezes his nape, oh-so-gently, and for a moment he loses all coherent thought. "I've been waiting for it. A fight. _Something_. You never fought me."

Something dark and possessive flashes across Daryl's face, and he leans down to brush his nose against Rick's, lean their foreheads together. "If I'd known you were waitin' for someone to claim you, I'd'a been first in the damn line," he growls. His hand tightens on Rick's nape forcefully and Rick whines. If he hadn't already been kneeling he'd have fallen to his knees right then.

"Please," Rick whispers, and his hands finally find the strength to reach out and fist in Daryl's shirt, and he slides closer on his knees until he's almost in Daryl's lap. "Daryl, _please_."

Daryl growls – this soft, rumbling thing that sends a shiver down Rick's spine. His head feels hot and his hands are trembling and when he opens his eyes, he can see the first threads of red in Daryl's irises. _Alpha_.

Abruptly Daryl lets him go and it's like Rick has been plunged into icy water. He gasps, shaking finely, and remains on his knees as Daryl stands and goes to the front door and locks it. "Upstairs," Daryl commands, enough Alpha in it to compel Rick's shaky legs to support his weight. He scrambles to his feet and turns and registers the sound of Daryl's light steps following him before he's slammed against the stairs on his hands and knees.

Daryl's snarl threatens to break him apart at the seams. He's so _warm_ , he feels alive for the first time in what feels like a century. Daryl's hand slides through his hair and tugs and Rick's eyes water with how much he wants it. Then Daryl lets him go and commands him to move again.

This time he throws Rick down in the upper level hallway and Rick moans when Daryl's weight covers him, alive and hard and hot, muscles in his arms shoving Rick's shoulders down, teeth at his neck, his legs slotting into place between Rick's as Rick spreads them and falls to his elbows in a hasty, rushed rendition of the mounting position.

Daryl ruts against him, growling in his ear, and even through clothes it's enough for Rick to shake and moan for it. Daryl's big hands brand his flanks and Daryl bites at his hair, tugging on it with his teeth. They stay like that for a minute and Rick lets Daryl rut against his ass until the sweet scent of an Omega's slick starts to permeate the air, even through Rick's scent-deadening shampoo and deodorant.

Then, Daryl's hands dig under his shirt and press flatly against Rick's skin and Rick moans, collapsing against the feeling of Daryl touch him.

"Fuck, you smell so fuckin' sweet," Daryl rumbles, and bites at Rick's ear so that Rick whimpers for him. Daryl's hands flatten over his stomach and Rick's gut clenches. They slide up Rick's chest, just shy of his nipples, and stop. "You gonna be thinkin' of anyone else when I'm touchin' you?"

Rick shakes his head frantically, breathing hard. He feels dizzy, the euphoria of play hitting him hard. He's pretty sure there's nothing in his head aside from Daryl – Daryl's hands, his weight, the heavy heat of him against Rick's back. "No," he gasps, when Daryl still doesn't move. "Just – just you, Daryl. Only you. _Please_."

"Not gonna let anyone else do this for you, right?" Daryl presses, but rewards Rick's honesty by grazing his nipples with his callused fingertips. They're sensitive, most Omegas' are, and Rick trembles, his fingers clenching tight enough to white out his knuckles. "You're _mine_ after this, Grimes. All mine."

"Kill anyone who tries," Rick snarls, and it's not a threat.

Daryl laughs – this rough and breathy thing – and lets one of Rick's nipples go so that he can pet through Rick's hair in reward. "Then show me what I really want," he growls, right into Rick's ear, and tugs on Rick's hair. Rick doesn't hesitate – he bows forward and tilts his head to one side, baring his nape and the side of his neck for Daryl's mouth.

Daryl growls in victory, his teeth against Rick's neck. It forces Rick to bear all of his weight the Omega shakes with it but holds, determined to be a good playmate for his Alpha. Daryl licks over the tendon in his neck, teases at biting him, but Rick knows he'll hold off until they mate for real.

Daryl pushes himself off of Rick and Rick howls, like Daryl parted from him by flaying the skin from his back. He claws at the hardwood floor, shaking so hard he wonders how he doesn't just shatter like glass in a mosaic.

Daryl puts a hand in his hair and hauls him upright, slamming Rick back against the wall hard enough to hurt. Rick growls at him, baring his teeth, but gentles when he sees the red in Daryl's eyes. Daryl is Alpha now, _his_ Alpha, and Rick owes him his obedience and love.

Daryl watches his face and Rick submits to the fierce look, trembling finely. He licks his lips and Daryl leans their foreheads together, his hand going from Rick's hair to the side of his neck, wet from Daryl's mouth.

"Thought about this so many times," Daryl confesses. "You got such a pretty gold, Rick."

The praise washes over Rick like he's drowning in molasses. He can barely breathe, and each breath is stained with Daryl's scent – he smells so _good_ , alive and like leather and oil. Rick can smell chocolate on his exhale, he'll be so sweet to taste. Rick _needs_ it.

"Kiss me?" he asks, plaintive, begging.

Daryl smiles, this wicked thing, and the hand at Rick's jaw flattens across his neck. Daryl's thumb sinks into the tender flesh just below his jaw, his fingers flattening wide across his throat. Rick gasps, tilting his head up and away to bare more of his neck to Daryl's touch.

"Where?" Daryl asks, leaning in and putting his nose to Rick's neck.

Rick clutches at his shoulders, nails digging into Daryl's clothing. "Everywhere."

Daryl laughs and takes his hand away, stepping back. Rick whines but doesn't move – stays upright with his throat bared for Daryl's fierce, wanting eyes. He hears Daryl give a hum of approval and has a second to feel warm with pleasure, that he's making his Alpha happy, before Daryl takes another step back and jerks his head towards Rick's bedroom.

"Get naked," Daryl orders, and Rick obeys, pulling his t-shirt over his head as he walks into the bedroom. He hears Daryl following close behind and Daryl closes the door behind them, locking that as well. Rick undoes his gunbelt, letting it fall in a pile on top of his discarded shirt. His shoes and socks go next, then his belt, and then his jeans and underwear, which he pushes down his hips in one motion and steps out of them.

It's natural for an Omega to bare themselves for their mates. Not even a hundred years ago it was a federal mandate that an Omega must be unclothed while in his house, whether his mate was there or not, and regardless of other guests that might be present. Things have come a long way since then, but Rick doesn't mind being so exposed, when it's Daryl he's exposing himself to.

Daryl's breath escapes him like he's been punched, the red in his eyes flashing like a dampened fire, waiting for just a hint of new air to rage again. Like he can feel Daryl's desire pushing him, Rick ducks his head to one side, his eyes lowered as he stands at the foot of the mattress on the floor, waiting for his Alpha's next command.

Daryl sighs. "I ain't done right by you," he says with a shake of his head. "How long were you gonna let yourself go on like this?"

Rick shrugs, biting his lower lip. He supposes the answer is obvious.

"You don't have to, you know," Daryl says. "Just 'cause I'm here. Other Alphas -."

"I don't _want_ any other Alphas," Rick replies harshly, lifting his eyes. "I want _you_." Without even really touching him, Daryl has made Rick feel lighter and more settled than even Shane or Lori could, back in the old days. Daryl is wild, like Rick is – he can give Rick things that Rick is sure he never thought to want.

Daryl smiles, cheeks going pink, before he nods. "Alright then," he says, and steps into Rick's space, hands flattening on Rick's flanks again and running down. "Just wanted to be sure."

"I'm sure," Rick replies, his hands flattening on Daryl's chest.

Daryl presses their foreheads together, so close to kissing Rick, their noses brushing. Rick trembles again, heat spreading out from the points Daryl is touching him, lighting up his spine, his gut clenching with desire. "We can just play for now, if you want."

Rick shakes his head. "Kiss me," he says, and Daryl smiles, and grabs the nape of Rick's neck in a strong hand. He takes advantage of the way Rick's mouth falls open in a gasp to press their mouths together, tongue sliding in and taking control of the kiss with ease.

An Alpha's saliva triggers the mating response in an Omega. Play fighting and play mounting is good for the psychological release, but the hormones in a kiss kickstarts the slick response. Rick moans, tightening his hands in Daryl's shirt, as he feels the heat spreading from Daryl's touch on the nape of his neck, downward. His body clenches up, heated, and he feels himself starting to get wet as Daryl kisses him.

Daryl nips his bottom lip and Rick moans, tilting his head to one side to deepen the kiss. Daryl's other hand is still holding his hip, thumb dragging down the 'v' on Rick's stomach. Rick's cock twitches, hardening in anticipation, and he whines when he feels his body relax and slick starts to leak out, staining his thighs. The scent of him is overpowering, even he can smell it. He can't imagine how it's affecting Daryl.

Daryl sucks in a deep breath, snarling lowly, deeper than Rick has ever heard him. It's in his chest, demanding his Omega turn and present for him and Rick wants to – he wants to but Daryl is still clutching him tightly and he can't move.

"Daryl, _please_ ," Rick begs. "Let me kneel for you."

" _Fuck_ , Rick," Daryl snarls, baring his fangs. He leans in and kisses Rick again, heavy and commanding, and Rick's knees threaten to buckle and send him crashing to the floor. He arches against his Alpha, cock rutting and smearing sticky-wet precome against Daryl's shirt, making his stomach up. It makes something in Rick purr proudly, knowing his scent will be all over Daryl when this is done, and Daryl's scent etched deeply into his skin.

Daryl pulls away, wiping a hand across his spit-slick mouth, and growls again, eyes flashing. "Go on," he says, hesitating like his throat gets caught on whatever pet name he wants to call Rick. Rick whines, wishing he would say it. He thinks he would love the sound of Daryl calling him sweet things, rasping praise into his ear while they played. "Show me."

Rick nods, and turns. He goes to his knees on the edge of the mattress and crawls to the center, and then falls to his elbows and spreads his legs. Daryl lets out a rough, wanting sound behind him and Rick turns his head to see Daryl shedding his clothes. He's muscled and strong, well-fed in Alexandria after so long starving on the road. His shoulders are broad, his skin tanned on the arms and around his neck. Even his scars make him look wild and strong, like he's fought just as hard as Rick has to bring them to this exact moment.

When Daryl is naked he kneels behind Rick and puts a hand in his hair, forcing Rick's head down until his forehead is pressed against the pillows. Rick's shoulders roll and tense, finding a comfortable position, the best one to bear his mate's weight when he's finally mounted. It feels like he's waited his entire life for his moment, he can hardly breathe.

Daryl's thighs press on the inside of Rick's and Rick starts to shake, whining softly behind his teeth. Then Daryl's hands slide down his sides, gripping tight enough that it doesn't tickle, and cup his stomach. It's soft there, tender, and Rick wants Daryl to mark him, bite and claw at him until he bears unequivocal proof all over his body that Daryl has claimed him.

Daryl's hands slide up to rub at his nipples again and Rick whines, arching into the touch and pressing back until he feels Daryl's cock against him, rutting between his thighs. His slick is thick there, his balls and the base of his cock wet with it, and Daryl shudders, growling softly at the feeling.

"So sweet," Daryl whispers, almost to himself, and Rick goes tense when Daryl leans down and places a gentle kiss to the middle of his back. His fingers keep playing with Rick's nipples, sometimes teasing and light, sometimes pinching hard enough that they start to sting before he smooths his fingertips over them again. It makes Rick tremble, not knowing what touch might be gentle, what might be pain.

Daryl bares his teeth and sucks in a deep breath, and Rick lets out a high-pitched moan when Daryl sinks his teeth into the muscle of Rick's shoulder. Not hard enough to break skin but hard enough that there will be a mark. He licks over the bite with a rumbling growl and Rick groans.

"You've been so good, Rick," Daryl whispers, licking a broad, hot stripe across Rick's sweat-damp spine and kissing under his shoulder blade, as his fingers grab his nipples and twist for just a brief second. Rick jerks, and feels his spasming body produce another fresh wave of slick. "So good, waiting for me to claim you." He bites Rick again, sucking the skin between his teeth so there will be a tender bruise there, and Rick cries out when his fingers flick over his tender nipples and send a ricochet of heat down Rick's spine. "Must'a been Hell, needing it so bad. I bet I could make you come, just like this."

Rick whimpers. Without an Alpha's kiss, it takes a lot for an Omega to get properly slick. Even the times when his desperation had overcome him and he'd used his own hand, he hadn't put anything inside of him. He feels empty, clawed out from the inside. He knows Daryl can fill him up in the way he so desperately needs.

Daryl drags his nose down Rick's spine and finally lets his nipples go, hands sliding down Rick's sweaty skin and grabbing him by the hips. "Another time," he promises. Rick whimpers again, biting his lower lip to try and stifle the sound.

At once Daryl snarls, lunging over Rick and pinning him on his stomach on the mattress. One hand goes to Rick's hair, fisting tightly, the other wrapping around his ragged throat and tilting his head up. " _No_ ," he growls into Rick's ear. His thumb drags along Rick's jaw, tugging at the corner of his open, gasping mouth. "Don't you _dare_ keep quiet. I wanna hear how much my mate wants me."

 _Mate_. Rick moans at the word, his face flushed. He turns his head and presses his red cheek against Daryl's mouth and Daryl rewards him with a kiss there. Rick opens his eyes, he can see Daryl's face out of the corner of them, the red in his irises and the shine of his fangs.

The change in position meant Daryl's cock is now rutting against Rick's ass, wet with Rick's slick. Rick arches against the weight of Daryl on his back, aching for Daryl to sink into him, split him apart and get his knot stuck. Daryl's hand on his neck is choking him but he likes it – he likes everything Daryl is doing to him, more than he ever imagined he would.

"Daryl," he rasps out, holding Daryl's wrist tightly. His eyes are gleaming gold, he's sure of it. "Daryl, _please_."

"Mm, there he is," Daryl growls, and Rick shivers at the warm affection and praise in his voice. Daryl nuzzles against his cheek, kissing him there again. "There's my pretty mate. What do you want me to do to you?"

"Everything," Rick says, and he means it. "Bite me. Mark me. _Fuck_ me. _Please_."

Daryl smiles again, pulling his hand from Rick's neck and Rick gasps, suddenly allowed his air. He buries his face in the pillows and shoves against Daryl's weight, pulling his knees up so he's back in the correct position – the one that will allow his mate to fuck him as hard and deeply as he can until his knot grows.

Daryl sits more upright, hand going from Rick's hair to his hip again. Rick hears Daryl spit onto his fingers and then there's one circling his wet rim – he doesn't need the extra slick, he has plenty. Daryl's first finger slides into him, all the way, easy as anything. Rick howls, remembering at the last minute that Daryl doesn't want him to muffle his sounds, and turns his head to one side so that he can moan more loudly.

"Fuck, Rick," Daryl gasps, sounding startled. "Your ass is so fuckin' tight, _Goddamn_." He curls his finger, dragging it along Rick's sensitive insides, and Rick moans again, clawing at the sheets around his head for lack of anything else to do. He runs a hand through his own hair and tugs it up, baring his nape. "God, you're fuckin' perfect."

Daryl tries to work a second finger in, cursing at the tightness as Rick clenches up around him, his body desperate and eager for _something_. Rick has only had one Heat, just the right trigger and circumstance that had conceived Carl, but he remembers the frenzy of it, the desperate _need_ that had filled him when he'd laid with Lori and begged her for fingers, a toy, _anything_. But she couldn't make him slick and she couldn't do what an Alpha can.

Daryl's fingers curl again and push deep and Rick howls, his claws scratching through the sheets as Daryl touches a spot inside of him that makes an explosion go off behind his eyes. His orgasm slams into the back of his neck like Daryl's weight and he cries out with it, hips rutting frantically against Daryl's fingers as the Alpha continues to touch his prostate, sending aftershock after dizzying aftershock thought his body. His come coats his thighs, adding to the pool of slick staining the sheets between his knees. He whimpers and shakes with it, soaked with sweat and Daryl keeps touching him, his hand tight on Rick's hip, hard enough to bruise, as he milks the Omega for every last sweet drop.

"Oh, _God_ ," Rick moans, clutching at his hair, nails sweeping across his nape and leaving red lines behind. He's breathless with it, twitching every time Daryl continues to touch that spot inside of him. It starts to hurt after a moment but he's so weak with relief and need that he can't make himself stop moving, stop chasing the pleasure, or tell Daryl to pull out.

Daryl doesn't – he's relentless, teasing Rick's prostate until Rick is so slick that his fingers make a wet sound whenever they sink in. Rick can hear, once the pounding in his ears goes down, Daryl's heavy breathing. He's soaking himself in Rick's scent, likely half-mad with it, and Rick lets out a quiet whimper.

"Alpha – oh _fuck_ ," Rick gasps, clenching his eyes tightly shut. "Alpha – _Daryl_. Please – please, please. Fuck me."

Daryl pulls his fingers out with a curse and Rick gasps, whining at the emptiness inside of him. It's not enough – he needs _more_. He's just about to try gathering enough air to say so when Daryl's other hand flattens on his hip and both hands slide up, gripping him just under his ribs.

"You ready for me, Rick?" Daryl asks. His weight is on Rick's back again, _finally_ , his mouth at Rick's nape. Rick pulls his hands away and Daryl kisses him there, just below his hairline, and licks the sweat from his skin.

Rick gasps, takes in a shuddering breath, and nods. "My Alpha," he says, turning his head to one side, and Daryl snarls.

Daryl pulls his hips back, his bruising grip on Rick keeping him still, and then ruts forward. The head of his cock catches Rick's slick, stretched hole, and after a single, knife-edge moment of hesitation, he starts to push forward. The head of his cock splits Rick apart, bigger than anything Rick's had inside of him in his life, and he sinks in past the head, and Rick is so slick that he slides in easily.

Daryl growls loudly, an Alpha in the height of his claim, his victor-scent coating the back of Rick's mouth like honey, and then his thighs slot up against the back of Rick's and he's all the way inside and Rick is breathless with relief. It feels so fucking _good_ , even as sensitive and tender as he is, when Daryl's cockhead nudges against his prostate again and Rick can't help himself. He clenches up and ruts back, eager to feel his mate as deeply as he can.

Daryl bites out a curse and puts his teeth to Rick's nape. His hands wrap around Rick's wrists to hold him still, and then he starts to move. He pulls out and fucks back in like he's trying to fuck his way through Rick's body, carve out a spot for himself there to permanently reside, and Rick wants him to. He wants to claw his ribs apart and make a space there for Daryl. He wants to feel heavy and sore with his knot, with his come.

He _wants_ it, and curses his own damn stubbornness that it took him this long to get it.

Daryl snarls like a wild animal behind him, his teeth at Rick's nape and Rick whines, closing his eyes. _Bite me_ , he wants to beg, he needs it to happen. He needs his Alpha's knot and his come and his teeth in Rick's neck, claiming him, the rest of Alexandria be damned. Daryl is the only Alpha that will fight him, play with him, and own him like this.

Rick trusts him with everything, even the primal prize of his submission.

Rick arches his hips every time Daryl withdraws, moans every time Daryl fucks back in, his body welcoming the Alpha's presence with grace and ease. It could have been this easy from day one. It could have been.

His head is thick with lust, with desire. He needs this, he'll need it every damn day for the rest of his life. " _Daryl_ ," he whines, when Daryl's cock strikes that spot inside of him again, lighting up his chest and driving the breath from his lungs. His cock twitches, his ass clenches up. One of Daryl's hands leaves his wrist, forcing him to take more of Daryl's weight as Daryl wraps a hand around Rick's cock and starts to stroke. He teases at the head, smearing Rick's come down his shaft, and gently strokes in time with his powerful thrusts.

His breathing is heavy against Rick's neck, a low rumble constant in his chest, pressed against Rick's back. Everything Rick can sense is Daryl – the sounds he makes when Rick gets tight around him, the way his body melts and collides so perfectly against Rick's. The noise in the room is obscenely loud, even without their growls and moans and Rick's high-pitched cries of pleasure. The scent is overwhelming, thick with sex and an Alpha in Rut.

Rick tightens up as best he can, howling and turning his head, biting down on Daryl's wrist as he comes again, shivering and emptying himself into Daryl's hand. Daryl snarls and bares his teeth against Rick's neck and opens his jaws wide, sucking a dark mark onto the side of his throat.

Then, Daryl's thrusts start to slow down and Rick knows what's coming as surely as he knows his own name. "Yes, _yes_ ," he groans, willing his body to remain lax and loose as it awaits Daryl's knot. Daryl snarls, shuddering behind him, and slides deep inside of Rick, grinding against his ass impatiently like he's scratching some itch that only Rick's body can satisfy.

"You want my knot?" Daryl whispers, deadly-soft, calm despite his heaving breaths and hammering heart.

Rick nods frantically, turning his head to one side so he can see Daryl's eyes. "Knot me," he begs, stretching his free arm up above his head and pulling his knees a little closer together so that Daryl has a better angle for it.

Daryl trembles again, his breathing unsteady, and Rick whimpers when he feels Daryl's knot start to grow. He can't keep thrusting, his knot tugs on Rick's rim and forces him to stay inside. It's huge and his muscles twinge with pain but Rick is too high on the feeling of being mated and claimed to care much about it. This is what his kind was _meant_ for, after all. This is what he needs.

Daryl forces his knot in as deep as it can go and then, with a shivery growl, he starts to come. His fingers tighten around Rick's wrist and he lets Rick's cock go to fist in his hair. He yanks Rick's head to one side, baring his nape and the side of his neck, and bites down hard enough to split the skin.

Rick howls, tightening up enough that the knot feels huge inside of him and Daryl groans, sliding his teeth out of Rick's skin and licking over the small amount of blood there. It will heal quickly, most mating bites do, but it will leave a scar for Rick to bear so the rest of the world knows he's been claimed.

Daryl's come floods his body, and it feels warm and heavy in his gut. He shivers, high on the feeling of it, and the aftershocks of his own orgasm mean his body is clenching up in spasm around Daryl's knot. Daryl can feel it too – he growls every time Rick does it, shivering and rutting his hips against Rick's ass as though chasing the feeling.

Daryl lets go of his hair and his arm, pushing Rick's shoulders down until Rick flattens himself to his stomach and allows Daryl to rest his weight on top of him. Rick can't help himself – he starts to purr, smiling wide when Daryl nuzzles against his neck, his hair, his nape. Daryl's hands are big and warm on his flanks, petting him as though soothing him still. The touch placation is an instinctive thing and Rick loves how eagerly Daryl answers the biological need to do it.

He turns his head and smiles when Daryl rubs his nose against Rick's cheek and scruffy jaw, answering Rick's purr with a rumble of his own. It feels so good, having Daryl touch him, and then Rick remembers how reticent Daryl had been before, how much it had taken to get him to this point, and his scent turns sour with anxiety.

Daryl notices. "No," he says, voice low and raspy, and his hand pets through Rick's hair, and his other one gently rubs over the tender bite mark on Rick's shoulder. "No, no. None of that. Shh."

"I'm sorry," Rick whispers.

"I meant what I said," Daryl replies insistently. "Wasn't just play talk. I meant it. Don't run away from me now."

Rick shakes his head and lets out a quiet whine.

"You're mine, Rick," Daryl says, and tugs at Rick's hair for emphasis. Rick closes his eyes, sighing gently. "You're _mine_."

Rick bites his lower lip. "And you're mine."

"Damn right I am," Daryl murmurs. Rick's scent isn't sour anymore and that seems to placate Daryl, but he keeps nuzzling and touching Rick, soothing him as best he can while they're still stuck together. He works a hand under Rick's chest and presses it against his heart, flat. Rick starts to purr again and he feels Daryl smile against his cheek. "Sweet thing. That's it."

Rick's throat gets tight and he whines again, turning his head more fully and Daryl answers him with a brief, chaste kiss, a press of his warm lips against Rick's tender mouth. His eyes are fully blue again, that same dark storm cloud color, and Rick feels settled, finally, after an eternity of wandering.

 

 

 

They emerge from the house at nightfall. Rick can barely walk and even his shower hadn't rid himself completely of Daryl's scent – not that he wants it to – but he strides out of the house proudly, his bitten neck earning a fair share of wide-eyed looks. Michonne and Carol, to their credit, just smirk at him and offer some of the leftovers from dinner that night.

Rick passes Spencer on his way to the wall. Spencer looks at him in disgust and shakes his head. "Fuckin' bitch," he mutters.

Rick stops, raising his chin in defiance. "Call me that again," he says, daring. Spencer looks at him, calculating and assessing, but Rick isn't off-kilter anymore. He knows what some people will assume, but it would be unwise to think that Rick's submission to Daryl means he is no longer their leader, and no longer in control. Spencer needs to know that if he's to survive here.

Spencer eyes him for another minute, his eyes flashing red, before he shakes his head and stalks away. Rick smirks, and heads towards the wall.


End file.
